


Always Check if Strays are Actually Stray

by afterandalasia



Series: The Issues of Sharing a Room with Supernatural Fandom [3]
Category: AO3 Tags, Fandom (Anthropomorphic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Apologies to the Wranglers, Cats, Crack, Other, Wranglers Are Not Adult Supervision
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 14:12:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5420054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterandalasia/pseuds/afterandalasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A cat turns up in their room, and Abrahamic Religions despairs.</p><p>But mostly, she regrets leaving that tuna sandwich unattended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always Check if Strays are Actually Stray

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hhertzof](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hhertzof/gifts), [IShouldBeWriting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IShouldBeWriting/gifts), [Aoife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoife/gifts), [evitably](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evitably/gifts), [misslucy21](https://archiveofourown.org/users/misslucy21/gifts), [Hagar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hagar/gifts).



> As always, this work is in no way meant to represent official OTW or AO3 policy. Abrahamic Religions, WEROT, we love you deeply. Sherlock, we're sorry.
> 
> Inspired by Supernatural s10e02 Reichenbach. Yes, they honestly titled an episode Reichenbach. I was relieved by how much of an issue it managed to avoid being, but there was definitely some overlap between Supernatural and Sherlock tagging for a while.

It being the early afternoon, Abrahamic Religions is not at all surprised to find the room that she shares with Supernatural is currently unoccupied. Her roommate has probably gone in search of breakfast, or possibly trouble, and will quite likely find both before the day is through. Abrahamic Religions, however, has far too many books to read and papers to write, so she dumps her bag on her bed, tosses a stray shirt in the direction of Supernatural's laundry bin, and goes to raid the fridge for something to fuel her through the rest of the day.

She rustles up a tuna sandwich and a packet of chips, and gets as far as returning to her bed and opening her bag before realising that some coffee would probably be a good idea as well. Leaving the plate on her bedside table and stepping over the fluffy white thing on the floor - probably a new hat, hopefully not a new sex toy of some variety - and returns to the kitchen. It takes time to make coffee properly, and though Abrahamic Religions was not surprised to learn that Supernatural also drinks coffee, she was even less surprised when she started inquiring after types and got a blank look. 'With milk?' had been all that Supernatural had come up with, and Abrahamic Religions had not been sure whether to laugh or put her head in her hands.

There is no hiding place in the kitchen that will foil Supernatural for more than a week or two, but Abrahamic Religions retrieves her good coffee from its current hiding place and takes pleasure in preparing it properly, bringing together the coffee, sugar and cardamon as she works over the stove. When she is feeling relaxed enough that writing essay plans no longer seems like a horrifying thought, she walks back through to the bedroom, ready to move over to the desk.

A cat is eating her sandwich.

For a long moment, Abrahamic Religions looks at the cat, and the cat looks back. It has long white hair, large gold eyes, and one of those squashed faces that speaks of many generations of selective breeding. It looks _pedigree_.

"Meow?" says the cat.

"What the hell?" says Abrahamic Religions, absolutely and completely _not_ to the cat because she has not yet reached the point of talking to animals in her quest for sensible conversation. She storms over and snatches the plate away, to which the cat gives her an affronted look and lifts one paw as if to ask for it back again. "That's my sa-"

It probably shouldn't have taken her so long to figure out why there is a cat in their room. She groans.

"Not again..."

Not that bringing home a cat is something that has happened before, but more generatlly coming up with some foolish way to cause trouble is absolutely Supernatural's forté. Abrahamic Religions examines the sandwich, but can't tell for sure whether or where it has been bitten by the cat. Deciding that she does not want to find out, she givs up and returns to the kitchen to throw it away.

Just as she is about to search for her phone, the door to their room opens, and Supernatural whirls in. She is soaked from the rain - she owns four umbrellas, but never remembers any of them - and before Abrahamic Religions can even say a word, she has bolted across the room, dropped off a large cardboard box, grabbed the cat, and deposited it in Abrahamic Religions's arms.

"Quick! In here!"

Abrahamic Religions opens her mouth to object, but cannot get a word out before she is being steered towards the bathroom by her roommate. Supernatural is much stronger than anyone who lives on her absurd lifestyle has any right to be. Or perhaps it is force of personality alone that drives her. "Supernatural, what-" is as far as she manages to get before she is pushed into the bathroom and the door is unceremoniously closed behind her.

_"Supernatural!"_

The door to their room bangs on its hinges as Sherlock hammers on it to go with his shouting. If Abrahamic Religions were the one to open the door, she would give him a piece of her mind for treating the door in that manner, but she is standing in the bathroom cradling a cat like a baby, and when she hears the door open Supernatural is only a little out of breath.

"Hey, assbutt. How are you doing?"

"Supernatural, what the hell have you done with Reichenbach?"

"Um, bless you?"

"Reichenbach," says Sherlock again, more forcefully. He doesn't quite get the fricative right, but languages never were his strong suit. "My cat. Where is he?"

Once again, Abrahamic Religions looks at the cat. The cat looks back impassively, and twitches its tail. It brushes against Abrahamic Religions's arm. For a cat, it seems surprisingly okay with being cradled like this, on its back with paws tucked to its chest.

"What do you mean?" says Supernatural, and so help her, she actually sounds like she means it. Inside the bathroom, Abrahamic Religions resists her urge to bang her head against the wall.

"Don't play dumb. Doctor Who saw you bringing Reichenbach into your room earlier."

"He probably saw me with my new scarf." A muffled grunt as Supernatural struggles to open her closet door. "See?"

Sherlock stomps angrily through the room, and if he's tracking in wet footprints then there will be touble. Then Abrahamic Religions realises that she is most probably holding his stolen cat, and that she probably doesn't have much of the moral high ground right now. Finally thoguh, muttering vague threats, he storms off, and the door is closed behind him before Supernatural returns and opens the bathroom door.

She is beaming.

"Sorry about that," she says. "He's got  this weird idea that I stole his cat."

"Supernatural, I'm pretty sure that you stole his cat," replies Abrahamic Religions.

"I wouldn't steal someone's cat!" Supernatural protests. Abrahamic Religions looks pointedly at the cat, which is now cleaning one of its front paws. "This isn't his! I found it, outside!"

Either it was long enough ago for the cat to manage to dry out, or it had managed to find a pretty good hiding place. It was raining really quite heavily. "Supernatural, a lot of cats spend time outside," she says evenly. For knowing more about sex toys than Abrahamic Religions had ever wanted to know was possible, she could really have problems with the real world sometimes. "Are you sure that this cat is actually a stray, and wasn't just spending some time outside? Have you had it checked for a microchip?"

It isn't wearing a collar, at the very least, but there was just about no way that a cat like this would be a stray for long. Not just how it looked; it was too friendly, too willing to be petted. Even seeing Supernatural again had not prompted it to stir.

And it really was starting to feel quite heavy.

"Look," tries Abrahamic Religions, "it could be that Sherlock's cat got _lost_ , and you managed to _find_ it to return it to him. And you really should at least check that it's his. What does Reichenbach look like?"

Supernatural's eyes drop guiltily to look at the cat.

"Iiiiiii thought so." Abrahamic Religions sighs.

"But I bought loads of stuff!" Supernatural points at the box which she had deposited on her way in. "I've got food and litter and a litter tray and some toys and-"

Abrahamic Religions can just feel her essay-writing capability slipping away, With a sigh, she adjusts the cat in her arms, and it makes a faint squeak of annoyance. "And I'm sure that as a sign of gratitude for finding his cat, you would be willing to petsit whenever he has to go home for the holidays, yes?"

It earns a pout, but Supernatural looks genuinely saddened behind it all. There's something endearing about her in the end, something almost compelling in the way that she interacts with people, and Abrahamic Religions has absolutely no idea how she does it.

"I'll come with you," she says finally. "I can vouch that you only found him after you spoke to Sherlock."

With a delighted laugh, Supernatural throws her arms around both Abrahamic Religions and the cat, hugging them both and getting Abrahamic Religions's hair stuck in her lipgloss. "You," she says, as she pulls away, "are the _best_."

More like the most gullible, thinks Abrahamic Religions, but she takes the opportunity to steer the cat into Supernatural's arms instead. Both of them are covered in white hair by now; it's going to take a lot of lint rollers to get rid of all of this. Abrahamic Religions sighs. "And you owe me a tuna sandwich. Come on, let's return the cat."

It might not get much work done today, she tells herself, but it's for the best in the long run. Goodness knows what a cat would do in a room this booby-trapped with sex toys, anyway.


End file.
